


Reparations

by Paia_Loves_Pie



Series: Christmas Cookies [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Snippets, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/pseuds/Paia_Loves_Pie
Summary: Mycroft goes a step too far...and then he's forgiven.





	Reparations

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all of you who have read and kudos'ed and commented on this series so far. I don't know what came over me - I've never written a thing in my life - but I'm having lots of fun with it and apparently I'm still thinking Christmas thoughts. Here's one more for the road <3

“Hang on... Mycroft, where did all the red gumdrops go?”

 

“I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea,” Mycroft said, sidling up next to Greg in the kitchen and placing a peck amidst the confectionery sugar on his cheek. “Are you sure you left them on the worktop?”

 

“You're a rotten liar, darlin’, and if I find out where you've stashed 'em, you're going to be in so much trouble.” Greg waggled his bag of royal icing at him menacingly.

 

Mycroft darted a quick look to the right, then with practiced nonchalance he began subtly fiddling with his phone.

 

“Why don't I just take a quick look around for them, shall I?”

 

Greg narrowed his eyes. 

 

“Yes. Perhaps you should.” He raised the piping bag again to draw a smile on the next gingerbread man in the tray. “And while you're at it, tell Anthea we're out of eggs, too.”

 

Mycroft smoothed a hand across his mouth, hiding a little smile behind his palm. He strolled out of the kitchen to make himself scarce until reinforcements arrived.

 

“And don't think I didn't notice that there are only 23 gingerbreads on this tray, you rascal!” Greg called as he slipped around the doorway. “Santa is going to put coal in your stocking!”

 

20 minutes later, Mycroft sauntered back into the kitchen, a bag of red gumdrops and eggs in hand. Greg pointed a baleful look in his direction. 

 

“You wouldn't really put coal in my stocking, would you, Treasure?” Mycroft asked. Greg couldn't quite parse out his tone.

 

“Of course not,” he reassured with a cheeky grin, “I'm not braving the crowds to return your presents now. 'M not suicidal.” Mycroft crowded up behind him in a hug, dropping his chin over Greg's shoulder for a look at the iced cookies (all conspicuously missing their gumdrop buttons).

 

“They look lovely, Greg,” he said honestly. “That one in the middle is particularly dapper.” He pointed to a cookie that, unlike the others in traditional trousers and shirts, had a 3-piece pinstripe suit carefully piped on and a rogue curl on the forehead.

 

“Yes, well…,” Greg said with an embarrassed half-smile.

 

“Does this mean I'm forgiven?”

 

“If I remember correctly, one must first admit wrongdoing before being forgiven,” Greg says, turning in Mycroft's arms to face him. 

 

“I'm heartily sorry for having eaten all the red gumdrops prematurely. I shan't do it again.”

 

That's alright, then. But if any more candies 'go missing’, I'm coming after you with the wooden spoon like my nan used to do.” 

 

“I'm sure there won't be any need for that,” Mycroft bowed his head to Greg's ear with a sly smile and began working his hands under Greg's tee shirt. “Next time I get the urge for a treat, I think I'll just take a bite out of you instead.”

 

“Oh, will you now?” Greg smiled.

  
“Mm hm,” Mycroft said, placing a kiss on Greg's ear. “I have some ideas about what to do with the  _ green  _ gumdrops.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter @PaiaLovesPie


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